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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838978">The Eyes.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Annitrope20'>Annitrope20 (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ADHD, Angst, Anxiety, Character Death, Crying, Drug use/abuse, Gay, Gen, Horror, M/M, Me Torturing My Readers, Mental Health Issues, Ocean Horror, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Workaholic OC, past mental abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:06:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Annitrope20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An ocean horror story. Ft. A gay workaholic protagonist, a he/they protagonist who may or may not die idk I haven't decided, an ocean horror movie villain that isn't a shark, the occasional science fact, ADHD, and other things.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Eyes.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oliver tapped on the monitor of the base trying to see whatever the 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 damaged the drone that they sent out in the ocean. He looked rather old for a 25-year-old, light skin, black hair with spots of greyness sprinkled in, few grey spots on his jaw that were what remained of a hideous beard, raggedy and half-broken glasses barely holding on, only being held together thanks to a piece of duct tape, his dark brown eyes twitching in frustration. He was wearing a button-up white shirt that had more instant noodle and coffee on it than a broke college student's diet, his black slacks torn apart, being hand-me-downs from his uncle, and dirt-covered shoes with socks that had more holes than a trypophobia having person's nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>"Oli~", he heard the sing-song voice of his "friend" George; he proceeded to groan and push the button which turns on the audio.</p><p> </p><p>"What?", he replied in a stern voice, not in the mood for any of George's antics.</p><p> </p><p>"Oli! That sounds so mean, what if I got mauled by a shark?", he could 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 the stupid positions he was putting himself in.</p><p> </p><p>"First off; sharks are rather friendly creatures you 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻.", the black-haired male said, pushing on the communication button so hard it might break, "Second off; we would have seen your heat signal go off. And If you died, I would be cracking open a cold one and watching the sunset with my dog; which I have not seen for over 3 weeks, so I would enjoy it if you stopped 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙚."</p><p> </p><p>He heard the other male gulp over the mic, "Ey, ey, captain!" was the last thing he heard before the audio was disconnected.</p><p> </p><p>"You gotta stop being so hard on the kid,'' his colleague, Aria, remarked.</p><p> </p><p>She was 26 and looked as if she had enough energy to beat The Flash in an endurance competition. She had milk chocolate skin, fiery red hair, light freckles around her cheeks with light blue eyes, a jacket wrapped around her upper half with what was now an old blouse. She was wearing a skirt you would see a businesswoman wearing in one of those commercials for tampons, with leggings and running shoes.</p><p> </p><p>"Kid?" he scoffed, "He's 24.", he continued before pulling out some paperwork and a half-empty cup of coffee, with god, knows how many caffeine shots added to it.</p><p> </p><p>"And you're like.. what.." she tapped on her desk as if she was calculating his age, "43?"</p><p> </p><p>He blinked "I'm 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦."</p><p> </p><p>She stifled a laugh, "Holy 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝗆𝖺𝗇, you look terrible!"</p><p> </p><p>"Not my fault my parents dealt me a shitty hand with genetics.", he hissed "They already fucked me over with mentally abusing me, and giving me anxiety", he then put a paperclip on the papers to keep them together and finish them in silence without anyone bugging him.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, you know I know a pretty good group therapy group.", she told him, but he brushed her off.</p><p> </p><p>He didn't 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆.</p><p> </p><p>______________________</p><p> </p><p>𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦… </p><p>______________________</p><p> </p><p>George poked and prodded at basically anything he saw. Not his fault they never saw this place before, also not his fault that the drone hit a rock.</p><p> </p><p>The 24-year-old had rather tanned skin, hazelnut hair, heterochromia eyes with the left one being light green, and the right one being blue. Currently, he was wearing a 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 uncomfortable diving suit.</p><p> </p><p>"George!", he heard Oliver's voice from his comms, and he sounded 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. "I swear to whatever God you worship if you're wasting your time poking random shit, I will 𝙨𝙬𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩!"</p><p> </p><p>Once again George gulped, "You can't blame me for having ADHD!"</p><p> </p><p>He heard Oliver sigh.</p><p> </p><p>"Protocol 3.", he mumbled, George quirked an eyebrow in confusion he never heard of that protocol.</p><p> </p><p>"George! Protocol 3!", he repeated, "The pouch in your suit! On the inside!"</p><p> </p><p>The younger male moved his hands down and felt a pouch.</p><p> </p><p>"I put your meds and a flask of water in there.", he told them. He was always very caring to some people, and once you broke his shell and snuck in, he would kill for you.</p><p> </p><p>After taking his medication and downing the liquid, they felt more 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽.</p><p> </p><p>"Better?", he asked.</p><p> </p><p>"A lot!" They beamed.</p><p> </p><p>"Now find that drone!", and there was the usual Oliver everyone knew and barely tolerated.</p><p> </p><p>So, after a while of searching, quite frankly a while is an understatement they were searching for like 2 hours, he finally found the drone; or what remained anyway.</p><p> </p><p>What was a 3,000 dollar drone with fully functioning motors, cameras, audio receptors, a place to hold things that it found? Was now… just a torn apart piece of trash, covered in bite and scratch marks.</p><p> </p><p>"Holy shit..." he mumbled out at the look of it.</p><p> </p><p>He pressed onto the communication button, "Um, guys… I found the drone.. or what's left of it anyway."</p><p> </p><p>__________________</p><p> </p><p>𝘛𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘥... </p><p>__________________</p>
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